


Take Care

by fragileb0nes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Light Angst, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragileb0nes/pseuds/fragileb0nes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha runs into Steve during his tireless search for his missing best friend and doesn't like what she sees, so she tries her hand in distracting him for his own good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She'd heard from a source or two that he was going to be in Paris next. She was actually thoroughly surprised that she even was privileged to know that much, considering he'd been bouncing around quite a bit in the passed year. But even if his visit was most likely going to be short lived, she was going to make the best of it. She carefully planned her extraction plan to a tee and made all the right phone calls. Natasha woke up early that morning with a wry grin already on her face. She peered out her bedroom window and watched as her quiet little street began to wake up for the day. She couldn't help but grin at her own reflection in the glass as she thought, _Today's going to be a good one, the Captain's in town._

Finding Steve Rogers in Paris should have been challenging, it really should have been. But Natasha had a few undying personality traits of his to account for. He'd be staying somewhere small and quiet and discrete, and it wouldn't be in the center of the city considering what and who he was there for probably wouldn't be out and about on the town. But he also wouldn't be anywhere too incredibly shabby, because a man like him might stand out a bit. After playing a little guessing game with herself as to where to look exactly, her first try proved to be successful. "Oh Rogers," She chuckled as she hid around a corner and watcheda large man with his hood up and a solid gait quietly exit his hostel room door. She put her own hood up. "You made this too easy."

She tailed him for about an hour, keeping silent and mixing with the crowd just as well as he did. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to run forward a few steps and yank on his arm, she wanted to hear his voice for herself, she wanted to make sure he was okay. He'd been floating for a year with no contact, something she was a pro at, but she had to confess that being shut out by Steve, like he had done to the rest of the world, proved to be not as fun.

He didn't eat breakfast, he didn't talk to anyone, he didn't stop for anything. He just kept walking and looking around occasionally- never slowing down for a moment. Natasha felt a sad pricking feeling at her chest; he was lost. He walked with purpose, because he had such a great one, but she knew the poor sap didn't have a clue as to where he was going. She contemplated catching up to him again, but instead chose to keep following and waiting for the perfect moment to surprise him.

It didn't take long to realize it was not going to be her doing the surprising- and she was no longer the follower. Steve must have noticed her and made a sharp turn on a narrow side street and was behind her by about a hundred feet in no time. "You're good, I'll give you that." She muttered to herself. _But I'm better._ She thought.

Natasha had him trace behind her as she headed quickly, farther downtown towards all the tourist hubs. The crowds grew thicker but Steve never let up on his chase on her. Finally, she'd had enough of the stalking nonsense that had gone on all morning, and decided to make a sharp move to a narrow alley and ran halfway down where the shadows cast out the sunshine. Steve ran too, tailing her by only a few feet now. 

"Who are you?" He said sharply when she came to a halt.

Natasha turned her head slightly in his direction and smirked before making one swift movement to whirl around and pin him against the wall. "An excellent question,"

She had been quick, but Steve may have been quicker. He had no problem undoing her move and shoving her against the opposite close-quartered wall. After a millisecond of a look of malice, his expression gave way to one of surprise. "Natasha?" He said harshly, but pulled her a little closer, as if to move her like he didn't believe what he was seeing. "What are you doing here?"

Natasha reached up and gave him an endearing but too hard pat on the cheek. "Don't sound so disappointed, Steve. And I'm in the middle of an operation here. Nice to see you too."

"How did you know where I'd be? Who told you?"

"No one told me where you'd be," She shrugged nonchalantly. "I know everything, remember?"

He nodded once, slowly, but didn't say anything else.

Natasha took a step and a half forward to exit the alleyway. "So," she exhaled and gave him another hard pat to the arm this time. "How about you and I grab something to eat and play a little catch-up? I know you haven't eaten yet."

Steve pursed his lips and cocked his head. Natasha knew he was about to open his mouth and decline.

"Come on, Steve. On me. How long has it been since the last time you were in France? Had they even invented the wheel yet?"

After a moment, Steve's wary look broke into his telling grin as he peered down at the ground before looking back up at her. "No, they hadn't."

"That's what I thought," She smiled and walked forward, knowing he'd be behind her. 

"There's rips in your jeans." He said as he began to stride next to her, saying it like she didn't already know.

"I know. I bought them that way." She looked at him indignantly but still smirked. He merely shook his head and exhaled loudly.

* * *

 Natasha had already picked out where they'd be eating long before she started following him that morning. She chose a quaint and quiet cafe several blocks from the Eiffel Tower, far enough away from the hustle and bustle so they could talk but still close enough to still have some classic Parisian charm. She ordered the food for both of them, speaking eloquently in French to the waitress as soon as she bopped by the their outdoor table. Natasha wanted to keep her word exchange with her nice and clipped to keep from her noticing two of the people that had literally saved the planet before. 

The waitress soon returned with their coffees and set their cups down in front of them. Natasha caught her looking a little longer than was appropriate and normal, so she gave her a slight nod to get her to keep on moving. She swiftly scuttled away.

"It's a latte, Steve." Natasha said after she watched him stare down silently at his drink for a moment or two.

"Why is there a heart design on my drink?"

"There's one on mine too, cool your jets." She rolled her eyes and a smirk tugged at her lips. He was nowhere near dumb, and basically fully acclimated to the twenty-first century, but he still had such a way with being dense about little things.

"So this mission of yours, Nat," Steve started. She knew he wasn't in much of a mood to talk, and if he was going to talk, it sure as hell wasn't going to be about him. "What's it about?"

Natasha grinned and stirred her latte, watching the foam drown out under the hot brew before she spoke to him in a hushed tone. "It's my most interesting one to date. I've never done something like this before, and I have no idea how long it could take."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed together and he leaned in a little closer to hear her. She knew that even though he was dead set on his own intentions, he couldn't help but zone in on her problems as well.

Natasha chuckled at him and sipped her coffee. "I'm living a normal life."

"What?" He asked as he sat back in his chair again. He looked at her like he didn't believe her. To her it looked like she had just spoken in a completely foreign language to him.

"Well, I mean, as normal as my life can probably get. " She shrugged and leaned back. "I still get some calls and wires my way sometimes, but overall, it's been pretty normal."

"Natasha-"

"I didn't know what a normal life was like, Steve. I felt like I'd been robbed of something. So, when we spent that one lovely afternoon burning SHIELD to the ground and spilling a million secrets, I thought I'd wipe all that and start over somewhere I like. I like France and Paris and I like sleeping in sometimes and doing whatever the hell I want. I'll be back when something goes to shit again, don't worry. But in the meantime, I'm going to keep doing yoga in the morning."

Steve nodded with a pursed lip in slight agreement, but she could see the disagreement written all over his face. "Being normal isn't always what it's cracked up to be, Nat. I would know."

She smiled. "You were never normal, Steve."

He flashed a flickering grin that was lined in pain as he looked down at the table. "Yes I was." She remembered what Steve's normalcy carried; things like physical pain and chronic sickness and so many other things he left behind to be replaced by bigger troubles.

Natasha looked down too, her fingers tapping the warm exterior of her coffee cup. "So, what have you been up to the passed year?"

He shrugged. "I don't know why you're asking. I'm sure you already know."

She pursed her lips. "Last I heard before Paris was Rekjavik."

"That was almost four months ago." He sighed. "Sam was still with me then."

"Where did he go?"

"I told him to go home. He insisted on staying and helping me, but he'd already served for something, you know? It didn't feel right to drag him all over the world again. It took some convincing but he's back in D.C. now."

"You served too, Steve." Natasha reminded him.

He cast another look towards the table, this one was far way. "I know."

Natasha swallowed and looked him over while he wasn't looking. Steve was always so clean cut when she saw him, but it looked like he hadn't shaved in a week- maybe two. His eyes, the ones with a certain charming sparkle that she always had internal debates with herself over whether or not they were green or blue, looked tired and in need of some real rest. Overall he looked haggard, if the serum even let that be possible. He probably hadn't slept or eaten properly in a long while, and probably would've shown it more if he wasn't the shiny pinnacle of human fitness. She felt a funny pricking sensation on the inside, one that she hadn't felt too many times in her life. It was the sense to take care of someone, it almost felt motherly. Natasha wasn't in love with Steve, but she loved him in the only way she knew how- by giving a shit. It was more than she was willing to admit and made her feel more vulnerable than she would ever be comfortable with. But how could she help it? While Steve Rogers was looking out for the world, who was looking out for him? This was a hard question to ask herself as she looked at him while trying to keep the worry off her face. She was used to only taking care of herself, or helping save the world as a whole. She wasn't used to zoning her care and attention in on one person. But if any one person deserved the compassion, it was Steve.

It was still quiet between them when the waitress brought their food out. _"Merci,"_ They both said in unison when their plates were handed to them. After a few moment of awkwardly eating in silence, Natasha decided to break it. "Was the file I gave you any help?" She had to ask, knowing the file holding all the information on Barnes had probably turned out to be a Pandora's box filled with confusion and emotion.

Steve chewed and nodded, swallowing his food before answering her. "It helped me know where to start. I spent about a month in Moscow and Zelenagrad looking for more information. I didn't find much, but at least I learned a little bit more about what I'm dealing with here."

"Like what?"

Steve gave her a quick look, warning her to keep her conversation topics out of some uncharted territory. She respected his unspoken wish, but it ate her up not knowing everything.

Another silence fell on them, this one heavier than the last. Natasha noticed Steve was finishing his food quickly, which meant any minute now he was going to politely bail out and disappear again for who knew how long. "Steve," His name fell out of her mouth without either of them really expecting it. 

"Yeah?" He answered.

She stared at those eyes again and spoke. "Take the day off."

"What?"

"Take the day off. Let's go to the Lourve. Let's climb the Eiffel Tower. Let's be normal, just for one day."

"Natasha-"

"It won't hurt anybody, Steve." She said as she leaned in towards him with a stern look rocking through her green eyes. "It would probably be good for you, to be honest. You look like shit."

He began to shake his head. "I can't, Nat."

"Do you think he'd want you to strain yourself over him? Would he really like how you look right now?"

As soon as she said it, she wished she could eat her words right back up. She knew she overstepped his boundaries and now there was no way Steve would be going anywhere with her. He was going to politely and quietly get up from the table and walk the hell away, not to be heard from again until another pressing matter would catch his attention. 

A minute or two drudged by with the two of them just staring at each other. Steve's expression was unreadable while Natasha's was surprisingly apologetic. She waited for him to get up, knowing saying something to get him to stay was be pointless and would only make her rare faux pas worse. Steve only broke the staring match when the waitress was near their table again.

_"La addition, se il vous plaît."_ He said to grab her attention.

"Leaving, are you?" Natasha asked.

"We both are." He said as he stood up. 

She smirked and stood, following him inside the cafe to pay. "Half of the art we'll see today is probably younger than you."

Natasha handed the waitress a Euro note and let her keep the change in a hurry to get on with the rest of the day that Steve had somehow agreed to. Though he had caved and decided to come with her on her little escapade, she knew it was going to take some effort to distract his mind from its constant whirring over the ghost he'd been chasing all over the globe.

They took a cab and were both quiet for most of the ride. Steve watched out the window and Natasha watched him do so. He was always observant, but this was different. He was so lost in thought and stress over his missing best friend that Natasha wondered when the last time was that he got some decent sleep and was able to breathe easy. It worried her.

"How long?" Steve asked, breaking the silence.

"How long what?"

"How long have you been living in Paris?"

"Almost ten months," Natasha replied. "I have a little apartment that's not too far from the Tower. I can see it from my balcony at night."

He nodded and went back to looking out the window.

"You'll have to see it sometime," She added.

"Mhmm," Steve mumbled, not looking away from the bustling traffic out the window.

She fought a frown, knowing he was only tagging along with her to be polite. She knew he wished to be anywhere else.

They reached the Lourve not long after, and it only took a few minutes before Natasha stepped aside with guard and someone in charge to speak with them before she and Steve were let right in.

"Do you want a headset?" Natasha asked when they walked by the stand to get the audio headsets to hear the background on each art piece.

"That's okay," Steve shrugged.

Natasha nodded, knowing more silence was sure to follow between them.

They meandered down the long hallways filled with statues and art, both still silent, and Natasha couldn't take it anymore. It then dawned on her as to how to fix it, by doing something that Steve himself was a hidden pro at. Be a little shit.

"How does this one make you feel?"

"What?" Steve looked at her perplexed amusement.

"How does it make you feel?" She repeated herself and motioned up towards the large painting in from of them. It made absolutely no sense- just colors and shapes and faces all strewn together across a canvas.

"It makes me feel… stupid." A grin tugged at his lips. "Because I have no idea what it means."

"Hmm, well it makes me feel a rebirth of my senses. Like a cleanse. It gives me a religious experience. I am redefined."

"Shut up," He grinned and shook his head. 

Natasha smiled back as they ambled forward. A tiny warmth grew in her chest, like his small smile egged her on to keep it going, to break him from the sad rut of pain he'd so willingly thrown himself into. "Hey look, I think you're actually in the corner of this one." Natasha pointed up at a beautiful painting of a battle scene. Her finger was directed towards a scrawny looking individual amongst the mess in the scene.

"You know, you didn't tell me there was a statue of you here." Steve replied quickly and pointed to the closest statue, but was poignantly referring to the monument's ass. "It looks just like you."

"Very funny, Rogers." Natasha said as she deliberately stepped on the back of his heel, flat-tiring his sneaker. She remembered doing it once before accidentally around the time they had met, and recalled that outwardly he didn't seem to mind, but she could easily read that it pissed him off on the inside- like a silly pet peeve. He only turned his head slightly to side-eye her a look while wearing a small smile.

The two spent the next three hours or so making digs at each other and making a dismal effort at appreciating the art in front of them. With each passing joke they tossed at each other, Steve loosened up more and more, to Natasha's satisfaction. She wondered how long it had been since the last time he had worn a genuine smile. Probably not since the last time she saw him, she thought.

Their makeshift tour was coming to a close, with just the Mona Lisa left to see. They knew they were getting close by the crowd quickly growing. 

"Holy shit," Natasha muttered when they finally entered the giant room holding the famous painting. The room was big, but not big enough to hold the army of flustered tourists wielding large lensed cameras and all trying to get a closer look at the painting that couldn't be much bigger than a piece of printer paper.

"Are you sure you want to see it?" Steve asked, observing how thick the mob was in front of the painting that they could barely see from where they stood.

"Yeah," She nodded. "I've never seen it before." She lied. Of course she'd seen it before, but she'd never seen it with Steve.

"'Kay," He said as the two of them slowly began weaving their way through the huge throng of people.

The crowd was nearly impossible to push through and it was getting to be incredibly hot. Natasha thought it would be easy to follow each other through the masses, but it proved to be much harder to stay close to each other than she originally thought. Steve kept turning around and searching for her while she was getting shoved away.

"Steve?" Natasha called out when she realized she'd lost him in the crowd. He should've been hard to lose track of considering he was so tall and she was always able to spot him without a problem, but the sardine packed mob bested her. Her eyes quickly scanned over all the people around her with no success.

All of a sudden, someone grabbed her hand, making her jump. Her gaze shot up to the person who had taken her hand, seeing Steve raise one eyebrow at her. A small and silent sigh of relief escaped her, immediately followed by an odd sensation that questioned why she was so relieved.

The pair pressed forward, nearing the masterpiece at a snail's pace.

"Almost there, Nat." Steve said over his shoulder to her, she nodded.

Finally, after duking it out with tourists nearly five hundred people deep, they finally were standing against the velvet ropes that kept the Mona Lisa from the mass hysteria. The two stared in silence, but Natasha kept her hand in Steve's much larger one. Partially because she didn't want to lose him and partly because it just felt nice. His hand was strong and gentle and warm.

"It's…" Natasha started.

"Small," Steve finished with a funny smile.

"Small," Natasha chuckled in agreement.

They made their way out of crowd and could finally breathe again."Where to now?" Steve asked. He freed her hand from his. She was surprised he even asked, expecting him to duck out as soon as their tour was over.

Natasha looked directly upward towards the giant glass pyramid that was the trademark symbol of the Lourve, seeing that it was getting dark out. "Dinner,"

"Dinner?"

"Yup," She grinned. "Dinner with a view."

* * *

"How long did you know I was coming?" Steve asked from behind her as she led the way to their destination.

"Long enough to pull the right strings." She replied.

"And how many strings did you pull exactly?"

He had the right to ask such questions, since they were headed straight for the Eiffel Tower in all its glory. The sun had disappeared entirely from the sky and the Tower was all lit up, looking more spectacular in person than a photograph could ever display.

"We're not eating up there, are we?" Steve asked as the pair were then escorted up the stairs of one of the Tower's legs.

"Dinner implies eating, I think." She replied.

"This is ridiculous." He mumbled.

"No," She shook her head. "You're ridiculous for thinking I wasn't going to have anything planned."

He just shook his head and pressed on behind her.

They were led to the illustrious 58 Tour Eiffel Restaurant on the first level tear of the Eiffel Tower. The view of Paris' Trocadero area was breathtaking, especially since the sun was on its way out for the day and the city was beginning to light up for the night.

"Natasha," Steve muttered from where he stood beside her, obviously also awestruck by the beautiful view. The way he said her name had an inflection of reprimand in it, like he was scolding her for going through the trouble of taking him somewhere so nice without any warning.

"No takeout tonight, Steve. And no shitty beer either." She said before they found their way to a booth against the wall of windows revealing a panorama shot of Paris.

"I like shitty beer." He mumbled in slight defense.

The whole dinner experience was finally the component of the day that seemed to go right from start to finish as far as Natasha was concerned. The pair shared a bottle of pricey champagne that Steve nearly had a small conniption over it when he saw the price, only drinking it when Natasha threatened him otherwise. She had the fish while he had the steak, and they split two baskets of bread. He had finally loosened up, mentally putting his mission and obsession on the back burner for just a moment. While they made quiet and pleasant conversation, it dawned on Natasha that it may have been the first time she'd done something normal and civilized with Steve. They weren't running and they weren't hiding and they weren't fighting or saving either- they were eating, they were laughing, they were looking out over a beautiful view and simply enjoying each other's company. She liked it. The entire world knew Captain America and his undying righteousness and "never quit" attitude, but only a lucky and sparse few knew Steve Rogers and his soft grin and good soul. Natasha felt privileged to at least know him slightly better than the rest of the planet.

"This is nice." Steve said after a long and comfortable silence between them when they had both finished their food and the champagne was gone.

"I'm glad you came around." Natasha smirked.

"I can't thank you enough for everything today."

"No need to thank me, Cap."

"It was nice seeing you and catching up."

She nodded before catching on a moment later. "Are you leaving me?" She hadn't meant to throw 'me' on the end, but the sensation of being stood up in a way was there anyway.

Steve's pleasant expression gave way to one like she'd seen that morning, one that was trailing a lost best friend relentlessly. "I've got to get back to work, Nat. I've lost a whole day of tracking." He shook his head.

"Steve," It came out sounding almost needy, and she immediately hated that. She didn't need him, she didn't need anybody, she quickly reminded herself that. But if Steve left right then, she was going to be slightly more hurt than she would have liked to admit. "Don't go yet. You haven't seen my apartment, it's my pride and joy."

"Natasha, I-"

"Steve," She nearly whined. "When will you ever get to see it again?" She asked, cutting him off. He just looked at her with apologetic eyes. "Who knows how long all this will take?"

It was quiet for a long moment or two before he sighed a deep breath, cracking under her pressure again that day.

"Now if you would please," She tilted her head to the side, knowing she had won yet again. "Let me show you my apartment."

A small grin flickered on his face for a flashing moment. "This better be some bachelorette pad, Nat."

* * *

They walked from the Eiffel Tower to her apartment through the dark, which had overtaken the sun's warmth of the day and replaced it with a brisk chill. Natasha still led the way but Steve picked up his pace, ducking his head down so his nose brushed against the collar of his jacket.

"In a hurry?" Natasha asked.

"Actually, I kind of am." He glanced at her without any real joke in his eyes, so she pressed on faster. He was politely going to see her apartment, make all the right comments and compliment where it was appropriate, and then get right back to work.

Her apartment building was nice and small, and old enough for the stairs that led to the third floor to creak loudly under their feet.

"Is this the part where you tie me to a chair and hold me against my will?" Steve asked, wearing a grin with his hands dug into his pockets.

"Don't tempt me, Rogers." She smirked and shook her head as she shoved her key into the lock and turned the knob. 

Natasha proudly flicked on the lights and revealed her small but cozy living space. 

"Wow, Nat," Steve smiled and looked around the front room a little, hands still in his pockets. "This is nice."

"You can say it's small, Steve." She grinned up at him. "It's just me that's ever here, so I didn't need a lot of room. Plus, I wanted something compact so if and when I have to up and leave, there isn't much to clean up." He nodded, understanding the part about up and leaving everything behind. Both of them had to do it too many times in their lives already.

She showed him her microscopic kitchen that was missing a table, only having an old stool at the counter. She then showed off her minuscule TV room with its blue floral love seat and matching throw blanket.

"I see you spared no expense with the entertainment system." Steve chuckled and nodded towards the open cabinet under her flat screen television that was stacked with all the accommodations of binge watching an entire series of any show.

"Of course," She smiled. "I even have it wired so that I can stream Netflix outside the U.S. That actually proved to be more difficult than I thought." He smiled and shook his head, looking at her and then the ground.

The next stop on their tiny tour was her bathroom that Steve described as "not much bigger than the Mona Lisa" when he went inside of it to show how small it really was. The last stop was her bedroom, which was still modest in size but proved to be the biggest room in the apartment. She showed him her pale green floral bedspread that she was so proud to have and he noted her excessive amount of pillows before she led him to her balcony that was so small it barely fit the two of them out there.

"See?" Natasha said as she pointed towards the Eiffel Tower that was lighting up the night. "You can see it perfectly from here."

"It's beautiful." Steve replied as he stared at it. 

They both remained quiet for another session of comfortable silence between them as they watched the Tower's lights twinkle in the distance. Natasha appreciated the pleasant reticence that sat amongst her and him. Most people sat awkwardly in silence with her or tried defeatedly to fill the space with a whole lot of nothing, but not Steve. He could easily sit in stillness, he was good at it. But Natasha knew, being someone else that was well-versed in silence, that silence usually had a nice way of often coating suffering. 

"How's some wine sound?" She asked.

"We finished an entire bottle of champagne already."

"Wrong answer. I'll be right back."

Natasha went back inside and fetched two glasses of wine from her limited collection before rejoining Steve outside.

"Thanks," He said as he took his glass with a small, pursed lipped grin on his face.

Natasha took a sip or two and relished in the calm before thinking back over the last adventure she'd had with Steve and how so much had happened in such a little span of time. Those few days had been jam packed with all sorts of action and emotion, enough to even catch her of all people.

"What?" Steve asked when he caught her smiling at nothing when she took another sip from her glass.

"I was just thinking," She started. "About the time we were at the mall."

"Oh stop," He scrunched up his face and rolled his neck to look away from her before a short laugh escaped him. "Are you going to shoot my knees out again for atrociously kissing you?"

"No," She chuckled and shook her head. "It wasn't _that_ atrocious."

He smiled and shook his head, taking a sip before looking back at her. "That practice nonsense is a load of garbage, and I'll stand by that."

"Will you now?" She looked at him dubiously through her eyelashes.

He nodded. "There's a method, though. A fool-proof method that doesn't need practicing because it works every time."

"A method?" She couldn't help but cover her mouth to keep the laughing away.

"Of course there's a method," He shrugged. "It's patented."

"I'm sure you didn't' come up with genius, patented method of kissing, now did you?"

"No," He scoffed and shook his head. "Actually," He started, a flicker of reminiscent pain danced across his features. "Bucky told me what to do back in the day. We were just kids then."

"Did he?" She asked carefully, being gentle. He hadn't used Barnes' name all day, and she knew it was delicate if he dared to bring him up.

"Mhmm," He nodded. "I've gotten to use it only a few times, but it hasn't failed me. Not even almost eighty years later."

"Show me."

"What?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Show me." She shrugged. "Redeem yourself. Redeem yourself and I'll never being up the mall tragedy ever again."

He paused for a moment, thinking about it. He grinned slightly before he spoke, beginning to recite his approach like he was reading it out of a book before actually performing it. "You get close enough to her face to the point that she's pretty sure you're going to kiss her, but not close enough that she's totally sure. You look at her eyes, into them, actually, one at a time before looking at them both as a whole. Because they're two separate pieces that make one feature. Then you look at her mouth, just glance at it though. Then you look back at her eyes, then her mouth again. You lean into kiss her, close enough that she's anticipating it, then, you pull back slowly just a little. After she's had half a second to get doubtful, you lean in all the way and finally kiss her. Everything after that is what doesn't need any practice."

Natasha stood there, smiling with her mouth open in shocking hilarity. That was the longest exhortation Steve had strung together that day, and it was about some bullshit sounding method to kissing. She couldn't believe her ears. "That," She laughed. "Is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

He raised an eyebrow at her and set his wine glass down on the balcony's railing ledge before looking at her straight on. His hand swiftly reached out to her one side, making her half step closer to him. His one hand stayed laying gently on the small of her back while the other rested on the railing. "You've got no faith in me, Nat." He said in a hushed tone. He looked at her deeply with those pretty and honest eyes, moving from one of her own eyes to the other one. He looked at them together for a passing moment before glancing down at her mouth, his own mouth twitched a smirk. She saw his full, pink lips partly flash his perfect teeth for just a second. She felt the mocking smile on her face melt away to a look of anxiousness and disbelief. He was _actually_ going to do it. She felt a tingling sensation shoot up and down her spine in unsure anticipation. Her eyes were next on the list again. His eyes flicked back down to her mouth and his grip at her waist tightened, pulling her closer. He leaned slowly and slightly, and backed off just like he said he would. He waited a long moment, looking over her whole face with a warm smile that hadn't been on his extensive list. She almost spoke up about it, but was shut up before she could even speak by his lips finally meeting hers. They were soft and invitingly warm as they moved slowly, brushing against her skin. Out of pleasant surprise she parted her lips, making way for his tongue to trace the inside of her mouth, and Steve wasted no time. He tasted like wine and smelled so familiar, like he had since the day they met. His hand moved from the railing to brush some of her hair away from her cheek with his thumb. Her hand rested on the back of his neck, feeling his hair that was getting to need a trim. Her other hand grazed his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the stubble. It felt to her like he was blushing- whether it was from the wine or the kiss, she liked it.

It was over as slowly and as gently as it began. He backed off with ease, looking over her face again with a smug and victorious expression on his undeniably handsome face. "And that," He smiled, picking up his wine glass again and taking a sip. "Is how you kiss somebody right."

Natasha exhaled, staring at him. "Not half bad," She shrugged and took her own long sip from her drink. It was, without any doubt whatsoever, better than the last one they shared. He shot her a look with narrowed eyes before chuckling and shaking his head. Despite his fun-poking expression, Natasha noticed how exhausted he looked. He had looked tired when she found him that morning, but their activity packed day was sure to knock him down another peg or two. "Do you want to watch some TV?" She asked, in an effort to keep him longer, and to change the subject from the fact that Steve Rogers may or may not have kissed her more shockingly than any other person had before.

"Sure," He grinned and shrugged. She was surprised she didn't have to fight him on it.

Natasha put their empty glasses in the sink and rejoined Steve in her TV room where he was already standing in front of the television with the remote in hand.

"Nice try," She said as she plucked the remote from his hand.

"How come you're in charge of everything?" He asked with a chuckled that was lined in annoyance.

She smirked and plopped down onto the couch, patting the space beside her for him to sit. "I'm always in charge."

"I don't recall you being a captain." He said as he cocked his head and sat down beside her.

She turned on the television and began surfing through the channels. "I don't recall you ever picking anything decent to watch on TV."

* * *

 Steve agreed to watch whatever Natasha wanted as he settled onto the couch. Since she had the reigns, she landed on reruns of France's Next Top Model and Steve wasn't complaining. He was quiet, with his head being held up by his hand, staring blankly at the monotonous drama unfolding on the TV screen. Natasha watched out of the corner of her eye as he faded in and out of paying attention. She knew she probably should have reminded him to go back to his hostel room and sleep, but disturbing him just felt wrong. Instead she continued to watch the stretch of episodes while Steve teetered on consciousness. 

She'd watched almost two hours of television before deciding to go to bed. Steve was fast asleep beside her, unmoving and unresponsive to her getting up off the love seat and turning the TV off. Before going into her bedroom for the night, she took one long, last look at Steve, knowing he'd probably be up long before her, without a trace left behind and not to be seen again for a long time. Her eyes scanned over his large frame, taking it in and remembering it, even though her memory on him needed no refreshing. She accounted for the features on his face, the ones that were usually upholding a respectable composure had then slipped away to nothing while he slept, making him actually look vulnerable. She wanted to quietly and carefully recline him down across the couch to be more comfortable, but she knew if he woke up he would leave. She hoped he'd sleep well, and maybe catch a few decent hours before vanishing from her.

Natasha changed into jogger sweatpants and a tank top for bed, went about her nightly routine, and was just about to slide into bed before she remembered to get a glass of water for herself. She stepped out into the TV room to head to the kitchen when she stopped almost immediately. In the dark, she could still see and sense movement coming from the couch. She squinted her eyes to get a better look, only to see Steve was no longer peacefully sleeping like he had been not long before. He was curled up now with his legs tucked close to his body and his arms holding himself tightly, and was shaking desperately.

"Steve," His name jumped out of her mouth sounding extremely anxious as she rushed to him. She went to shake him awake, but just the slightest brush of her fingertips sent his eyes springing open and his body moving like he was on full alert.

"What?" He asked sharply, but still quaked.

"What's the matter?" She edged on and bent down to his level, holding his face in her hands. His skin was cool to the touch, like he'd been outside for a while. 

"Nothing," He said through chattering teeth. "I'm f-f-f-fine."

"Steve," She said in a threatening tone, but she couldn't help her voice from sounding more mothering and concerned than menacing and calloused. "What's wrong with you?"

He shook his head from being held in her palms and sat up a bit, though continued to shiver violently. "I'm fine, really. It's just hard."

"What's hard?" Natasha got closer, still placing her hands on him in an effort to make the quivering stop somehow.

His tone came out in a strange mix of sadness and annoyance, lined in acceptance. "You can't just shake s-s-s-seventy years in ice and expect to be thawed for good."

Natasha inhaled sharply. She knew Steve had plenty of ghosts haunting him, but hadn't given much thought to the icy one that incased him for decades. She felt sad for him, and immediately wished with all her might to make it stop for him. To make it be one less thing he had to carry. It nearly scared her to see him like that- one of Earth's mightiest heroes and the worldwide face of strength and goodness then reduced to a shaking shell of the man everyone thought he was. She hated seeing him down for the count.

"Does this happen every night?"

"No," He shook his head again as another cruel tremor rocked through him. "Only every once in a while, less now then before. I think it'll go away eventually."

"What can I do?" She asked quickly, cocking her head and touching his hair, letting her hand run down the side of his face again. 

"Nothing, it's okay."

"No it's not," She pulled him up slowly to stand with her and made him follow her into her bedroom. "Put these on." She said after she grabbed a stack of clothes from her closet.

"These are yours," He replied as he stood by her bed, continuing to shiver.

"No, they're yours. I bought them for you before you came."

"Natasha-"

"Just shut up and put it on, okay?" She cut him off, annoyed by him still not wanting her help, even when it was obvious he needed it. She left the room and went to get the hot water bottle she had under the sink. After she'd filled it up, she returned to her bedroom to see Steve standing there with his arms crossed tightly over his chest in an attempt to get warm, wearing the black sweatpants and gray thermal shirt she had bought for him earlier that week in case she got him to stay with her. She fought a smile when she saw him in the shirt she was sure would fit him that he still nearly popped out of anyway. "Get in." She said as she tossed her numerous pillows off the bed.

"Get in the bed?"

"No, get in the fridge."

He narrowed his eyes at her and pulled back the comforter. "You're not funny." Once he started to lay down, she followed as well. "What are you doing?"

"You want to get warm, don't you?"

He didn't argue, and she knew that must have meant he was desperate to feel some heat in his bones again. She slipped under the covers as well, placing the hot water bottle down by their feet. She then drew Steve close to her to try and get him to warm up, and he, to her surprise, reached out for her as well. She instinctively situated herself comfortably against him and stroked his hair again while making gentle circles on his back with her other hand. It should have been awkward, or at least uncomfortable. But it wasn't. It felt nice, to her at least. She liked being that close to him, it felt like she could watch out for him better this way.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She murmured after a minute or two of darkened silence, continuing to lull him with her fingers.

"About the cold? It's not really something I go broadcasting, Nat."

"You don't broadcast anything, Steve."

"Neither do you." He said, looking up at her face.

"Well you can broadcast to me."

"Yeah," He almost chuckled. "Like you would do the same." He paused and set his head back down, his face grazing the skin at her shoulder. "I'm losing." He whispered.

"What?"

He moved his head slightly, like he was hiding it in shame. "I'm losing. I've been searching high and low for a year and I haven't found a damn thing."

Her mouth twitched into a grimace as she kept petting his hair slowly. "You haven't lost, Steve. You just haven't won yet."

"And what happens when I win, Natasha?" He looked up at her again, sharper this time. "What happens when I finally find Bucky and he doesn't remember me, or doesn't want to remember me, or all he remembers is that he's supposed to kill me?"

Natasha stayed quiet while she still felt him shake slightly against her. There was a great possibility that if and when he finally caught up with Barnes, he'd still draw a blank on his memories with Steve and try and finish the mission he'd been programmed to do in the first place. Steve's suspicions weren't far fetched, and she knew it broke his heart. And in turn, because she knew she cared too much, it broke hers a little bit too. 

"I want to give up." He whispered. "But I can't when I know he's still out there. Not when he's not with me yet."

She wanted to protest his search right there and then. She wanted to encourage giving up. His tireless search for his best friend was turning toxic on him and she couldn't stand to see him in the state he was in, but she knew telling him to quit would only push him farther away from her and closer to retreating back into tracking."You're a good person, Steve." She felt like right then and there that she had to remind him. Her hand fell from his hair to the back of his neck to try and sooth him. She fought the urge to swallow hard. The fact that the man behind the shield was breaking from the inside made her sick to her stomach. If the world only knew he was currently curled up and shaking like a leaf and not punching someone's lights out while jumping from some kind of cinematic explosion. If they only knew he was cracking in ways that were nearly impossible to fix. 

She almost couldn't hear him when he spoke. "I wish I felt like one."

Natasha closed her eyes sadly and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead at the hairline. She didn't have any words left to give him, no matter how much she wished there was something she could say to encourage him. Steve had been quiet and polite the entire day, like he did most of his life, but now he was breaking down and letting her in. It only made her wish harder that there was something she could do for him.

They laid in silence for a while after that. In the midst of the quiet, Steve repositioned himself by rolling Natasha over under the covers with her back pressed to his chest. His one extended arm created a pillow for her head while the other draped over her torso. Even when the whole point of sharing the bed had been for her to comfort him and warm him, Steve still ended up in a protective position over her.

"Are you warmer now?" She asked as she continued to stroke his arm and when she noticed his breathing finally start to slow down.

"Yeah, I think so. Thank you." He murmured. "For everything."

"Anytime, Rogers."

A few minutes later, she was sure Steve was asleep, which left her to fade out as well. But there was no way she was going to sleep without delicately pulling apart the day in her head. Steve had essentially stayed the same in the year she hadn't seen him, adding more burdens and ghosts to his back, but unchanging otherwise. She wondered how long he would go on before breaking entirely, and would it happen before or after finding Bucky? Would he be all alone when he would come to the conclusion that he couldn't take it anymore or would he lay it all down for his misled best friend? She also wondered how long it would be before she would see him again. He'd be gone in the morning without a trace that he was ever there, and she feared that that was it. It would be such a hard shame to her if she never saw those pretty eyes and that charming smile ever again. She took the time to accept the negative thoughts, so they would be no surprise to her if they happened to unfold. It set in her mind that this may be the last time she'd see Steve for a while, or ever. She finally got around to sleeping some time after that.

* * *

 Natasha woke up the next morning to the sunlight streaming gently through her creamy gossamer curtains like it did every morning, with the side of her face pressed to the mattress, falling off the pillow some time during the night like it always did. She noticed the absence of an arm draped over her and no broad chest placed against her back. Her eyes opened slowly as the events of the day prior came to her, that's when she remembered that she'd gone to bed with company but woke up alone. It shouldn't have hurt her, but somewhere in her chest felt a prick of sadness. She rolled over towards the window and was stopped mid roll by the body in her way.

She couldn't believe it, making her need to process the surprise for another second longer. She stared at Steve's back that was facing her, watching how his body slowly rose and fell with deep, sleeper's breaths. _He didn't leave._ She thought. _He's still here._ She propped herself up with one arm to get a better look at him, seeing that he truly was still sound asleep.

Her eyes looked over every inch of him. From his fair hair that looked pleasantly disheveled and overgrown, to his long eyelashes that curtained his honest and charming eyes, to his full, pink lips that were parted just enough to make quiet puffs when he exhaled. She looked over his shoulder blades that she could see through his shirt to his chest and torso, taking a mental note of his impressive physique, not like she hadn't before. 

The next thought that popped into her head was the reminder of how damn intimate this moment was. Maybe not intimate on a normal level, even for the two of them. She'd had her fair share of accompanied nights in her life and she assumed Steve had a handful due to his "I'm ninety-five, not dead." comment, but this was most certainly cozy and confidential for the two of them. She spent her life being mysterious, being an actress to open up just to keep the crucial components of herself closed. Steve Rogers carried a sense of reserve with him, keeping his personal business silent and didn't bother to involve many outside parties with his privies. But only hours before, with Steve's shaking body pressed against Natasha while she shushed his demons and stroked his hair, all that wall building seemed to do some substantial crumbling.

That should have been a red flag. That should have been the screeching siren in both their heads, blaring that they'd taken a step over the boundaries they'd set for themselves and it was time to run and flee from the scene of the vulnerability. It was supposed to be time to stony again. Be agents. Be soldiers. Be anything but laying next to each other in bed.

Steve adjusted himself in his sleep which prompted Natasha to get up and start milling around her crammed little kitchen. She tied her short hair up at the nape of her neck as she put some water in her teapot and set it on the stove. She got out two mismatched bowls and spoons before retrieving two mugs as well. It was after she'd set that all out that she realized it was nearly eleven o'clock. It was then normal for her to sleep in some times, now that she had the opportunity to do so. She knew that sleeping this late into the morning was extremely foreign to Steve, but refrained from waking him up, knowing that it was going to be a long while before he'd get good sleep again.

He slowly and finally emerged from her bedroom when the teapot started hissing. Natasha grinned as she watched him scan the tiny room in groggy disorientation before running his hand down his face.

"'Morning, Rogers." She nodded at him with a little grin.

"'Mornin', if you still want to call it that." He said, with his voice still thick with sleep.

"When was the last time you slept till eleven?" Natasha asked as she poured the steaming water into the two mugs.

He chuckled and sat down at her barstool. "Not since I had the flu in '43 and chloroform and cannabis were still in cough syrup."

"You needed it." She said as she grabbed two small boxes from on top of the breadbox and held them up. "English breakfast or mint?"

"Mint, please. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Wake the sleeping giant? Not a chance."

"Natasha, I have things to do."

"Like eat a bowl of cereal before you pack your shit and leave?" She leaned up against the counter next to where he sat and stared at him. He stared back, with sternness in his eyes. She realized it was a contest and refused to lose. A good fifteen seconds went by boring into each other's souls with their eyes before Natasha smirked and raised an eyebrow, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue as she cocked her head slightly. "What kind of cereal, Steve?" She asked softly.

He stared a few seconds longer before sighing. "I'm assuming you've got Pops hidden somewhere in this shoebox you call a kitchen."

"Oh, of course!" She smiled and threw her head back with a playful wink. "I gotta have my Pops."

Steve thanked her after she poured him his bowl of cereal and she made her own, but it didn't take him long to speak up about the elephant in the room. "I'm really sorry about last night."

She looked up from her food. "Sorry for what? Having some icy PTSD or needing help?" Steve just stared at her, looking embarrassed and sad. It made her feel upset; upset that he was sorry for things that weren't his fault. "There's nothing to apologize for."

"But now you might worry." He cocked his head.

Natasha set her bowl of cereal down and turned to face him better. She stared at him again, looking over his pretty face. "I already worried, Steve. And I just want you to feel good."

"Why?" He narrowed his eyes.

A short and annoyed chuckle escaped her for a second. "Why? Because I care about you." It should have been hard to admit. It should have taken some mental force to push those words out of her mouth. They came out too fast and too easy. For being an excellent liar, Natasha couldn't help but let the truth slip through for Steve. He was always honest with her, he deserved the same from her on occasion. "I did all of this because I care. I mean, why else would I do it?"

"I don't know." He mumbled and tried averting her drilling green eyes.

"Exactly. You're my friend, that's what you wanted from me, right?" He nodded and she continued. "Friends, from what I've gathered, take care of each other. Last night, you needed someone to take care of you, whether you like it or not. I did it and I'd do it again." She pursed her lips as she stared on at him.

He stared back at her with the smallest twitch of a smile on his lips. He still looked sad somehow though, she could have sworn that his eyes had the tiniest glassiness about them, like she'd struck a cord or something. She then remembered that it was probably truly important for him to hear what she said, considering one of the only other persons on Earth that deeply cared for Steve maybe didn't even know who he was anymore. "Thank you." He murmured.

She nodded once and slowly went back to eating her breakfast.

As their Parisian rendezvous came to a close, and though it was short, Natasha took a second to realize how well they got to know each other. Even in their last mission together, with all of it's action and closeness and one-on-one time, this one let each of them in on each other on a new level. What she knew about Steve Rogers before this was what she read and the little she gathered herself. She read his file as soon as they'd located him in the ice and he proved to still be alive, and she was sure he had dabbled in her file as well when he joined the Avengers Initiative with SHIELD. But this short experience revealed the little things, like his kissing abilities and her TV show bingeing and his occasional icy nights and her want to watch out for him. Little things, but nonetheless brought them closer together as friends, like he'd asked a year ago.

Steve finished his cereal and his tea before rinsing out his dishes in the sink and going back to her bedroom to change. "I think I should be hitting the road, I've got some catching up to do now." He said as he reentered the kitchen.

Natasha didn't protest this time, knowing it was time to let him get back to business. "Best of luck to you, Rogers." She said as she walked him down the short hallway to her front door.

"Thank you again, for everything. I think I needed a little time off."

"You did." She nodded.

"Take care, Nat." He said as he bent down to hug her. She instinctively reached up to reciprocate, feeling his large muscles tighten around her smaller frame in sincerity. Their simple embrace brought feelings to her that she'd been trying to give him for nearly twenty-four hours. Peace and safety. 

"I'll wash your clothes for the next time you stop by. You know where I am now if you need another quick break." She said as he pulled away and stood up straight again.

"But then your cover's blown." He grinned wryly.

She shrugged. "That's okay."

He exhaled and smiled again, taking a moment to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Goodbye, Natasha." He said as he opened the front door to leave.

"Bye, Steve." She replied, watching him walk down the hallway and flip his hood up. Back to the grind he went.

She waited until she heard his footsteps finish their way down her apartment building's creaky stairs before going back inside. She finished the dishes and then went into her bedroom to find Steve left his borrowed clothes folded perfectly on her bed. She smiled to herself as she picked them up and set them in the hamper. She'd get to washing them later, so they'd be already when he'd come back again. How she hoped he'd be back again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been six months since Paris, but Natasha would go another six months if it meant she could see Steve any other way.

She caught the first flight back to New York the second she heard the news. She could've asked Stark to fly her in his jet, but she wasn't in the mood to speak to him yet. Not him. Someone else needed talking to. Pepper sent for a car to pick her up at JFK when she landed that took her straight to the hospital. She wrung her hands in her seat as she stared intently out the window, watching the city pass by. It was forebodingly cold outside, cold enough to keep most people off the streets, like the city's weather matched the critically tragic situation at hand. The car stopped right at the hospital entrance, and she barely said thank you before pushing her way out of the car and into New York's frigid winter nighttime air. There wasn't any media swarming the street, not yet.

"Natasha!" Someone called out her name. She looked up to see Maria Hill waving her down after bursting out of the hospital's front revolving doors.

"Hill," She nodded once, bracing herself to be briefed by her. It must have been bad if Maria was going to meet her immediately and not even wait for her to get inside the building. "How bad is it?" What kind of question was that? Of course it was bad.

"It's a madhouse in there, even without the press. I wanted to warn you before you came inside."

They both started to walk back into the hospital to escape the biting cold and enter a new war zone. "How is he?"

"Which one?"

"Either,"

The were back inside by then. Natasha was straight away met by nurses and doctors and security bustling all over the place. "One is hanging by a thread in the OR and the other is an enormous wreck, to put it plainly."

Natasha nodded and swallowed, heading for the elevator with Maria. Things were bad. Things were bad when it was supposed to be relieving and joyous. Steve found Bucky. His nearly year and a half long mission had finally come to a close, but it wasn't supposed to close out with Barnes's life hanging by a splitting thread.

* * *

Clint called her the day before to tell her what happened. She'd been carrying on a normal day back in Paris filled with shopping and errand running when she found out what had unfolded. Her phone nearly slipped right out of her hand while the color drained from her face when she heard his news. His phone call revealed that Steve had finally gotten his hands on a real lead in his chase after Barnes, taking him to Northern India. It must have been one hell of a solid lead, because Steve had asked for a tact team to help him, which included Barton, Hill, and a few others. Natasha felt a pinging sensation in her chest from that alone, since she never received an invite for the mission. Apparently Barnes was getting ready to cross the border into Nepal through the mountains. Steve was there, miles behind him, literally on his tail for the first time. But Barnes walked right into a fateful blow to the chest when a hidden sniper tried taking him out in an effort to keep him from crossing over into the country. The wound in his chest was extremely life threatening and messy and all Steve's fault, according to Steve from what Clint told her. Barnes was air lifted out and taken straight to New York to be treated. Steve was made to go back separately since he was causing such a scene. Clint said watching Rogers explode was unearthly, he was like a madman- throwing things and screaming about how it could have been avoided if he caught up with him sooner. Almost a day later with the ordeal moved thousands of miles from its original setting, and his composure hadn't gotten much better. That's when Natasha knew she had to get back to New York as soon as possible, knowing that there was a mountain of dire issues that needed so desperately to be dealt with.

The elevator took the pair up to the tenth floor where the madness was even thicker than it was on the ground level. Armed security were every few steps while nurses were sprinting and doctors were nervously spitting directions. Natasha's eyes caught the rest of the team in the mess. Banner was speaking to a doctor while looking over a clipboard, and from his body language she could tell he was staying serenely calm, even if he wasn't on the inside. Thor stood awkwardly by the reception desk with a look of lostness on his face as he stared down at a large file in his hands, probably Barnes's, to catch himself up. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there; he was too large and too foreign for the high strung bustle of the ER and the OR. Stark was talking in a hushed tone to a sleazy looking man in an expensive suit, some politician she was sure. If someone in politics was there in the midst of the insanity then she knew it really wasn't good. "Where's Fury?" She had to ask. Something like this was surely enough to resurrect him from the dead.

"In a meeting with the Council concerning all of this." Maria replied quickly. "We tried to keep it quiet, but when the officials in India and Nepal knew, it didn't take long for all the world leaders to find out too. Fury's trying to keep some peace. The world's number one terrorist combined with a hysteric Captain America isn't mixing well with people." 

"He's not a terrorist." Were the first words out of her mouth. "How about Sam?"

"He went with Nick to the Council meeting, they wanted a firsthand report and he offered to go and give it."

"Why didn't you give it?" Natasha's words came out too sharp as she side glanced at Maria. She immediately regretted it; it wasn't her fault that Natasha hadn't been added to the team. She was already letting her emotions get the best of her.

Maria appeared to be unaffected by Natasha's accidental underhanded comment, sure to understand. "I wanted to help hold down the fort here." 

Natasha nodded in thanks and apology, and Hill was then whisked away by a nurse to do some talking. Natasha's eyes darted around the space looking for Clint or Steve, and only knew where to look after hearing some shouting.

"Well then how fucking long is it going to take?" She heard Steve's voice trump the rest of the noise. She looked over to see Steve throwing his hands in the air while speaking with another doctor in OR scrubs, with Clint trying to insert himself between the two of them. It was like Steve didn't even see him.

"The procedure to extract the bullet is going to take a little longer than we had hoped. It tore through some vital organs and we're trying to get it out without doing any further damage. We don't want him bleeding out. Please be patient, Captain." The doctor said. He said it almost as if he were annoyed, like he had already repeated himself.

"Patient? You want me to be patient? This day has been needing to come since before you were even a fucking thought and now it's going all wrong and you're asking me to be patient?"

Natasha scrunched her nose up. It was uncomfortable and unsettling to hear Steve talk like that. He was such a master of composure and reservation, but now he couldn't even keep harsh words from flying out of his mouth in such a tone that sent discomfort up her spine. She stepped forward to go meet him but was stopped when someone snagged her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Tony said after he'd whirled her around by the shoulder. "He's not very star spangly at the moment."

"Why shouldn't I?" She snapped. 

"He's irrational right now."

"Well no shit he's irrational." She spit out in his defense. "He's lost his best friend more than once and now his life is on the line the one time he finally got his hands on him."

Stark nodded once. "Well it's not looking so good. The doctors have been trying to tell Cap that for hours and he's not listening."

Natasha shook her head and glanced back at Steve who was then pacing and wringing his hands together, looking down and muttering to himself like he was crazy. 

"I would almost not want to pull through if I were Barnes, he's in a shit load of trouble."

"For what?" Her head whipped back to Tony.

"He's responsible for over two dozen deaths and terrorist acts spanning decades." He shrugged. "Even if he makes it through surgery, he'll never see the light of day."

"No," She said sharply and shook her head. Though she'd never had the pleasure of meeting Bucky Barnes, the thought of him being so heavily punished made her blood start to boil. "The Winter Soldier is responsible for all that. The Winter Soldier is the one in trouble, not Barnes. The poor bastard has been on the back burner for seventy years."

"Natasha," Tony said calmly but sadly. It didn't sit right with her. "Who's to say that if he wakes up, Barnes is the one we're dealing with?"

Natasha inhaled quickly and sharply as the true, all around severity of the grave situation set in. She did a scan around the room again and saw that the whole team was assembled together again for the first time in years, she wished it had been on better terms.

Tony let out a quick whistle and motioned with his hand to get them all together, minus Steve, who was still pacing down the hall. "We have to get him out of here." He said.

"He'll never leave as long as Barnes is here." Bruce shook his head. 

"Why should he have to leave?" Thor asked.

"The media will be here soon enough, and they'll be everywhere." Tony replied. "We can't have the world knowing Captain America is ripping at the seams over someone as notorious as the Winter Soldier. They'll tear him apart more than he already has himself, and I don't want to see if he can handle it."

"He can handle it." said Thor.

"Does _that_ look like someone who can handle anymore pressure?" Tony nodded over at Steve who was speaking sharply to another doctor.

"Banner's right, though." Clint stepped in. "Steve isn't gonna budge as long as Barnes is still here."

"I know." Tony shook his head. "Someone needs to get him back to the Tower while the rest of us straighten out the ugly stuff here."

"Have fun with that." Clint said, almost jokingly. "I asked him an hour ago if he wanted to take a walk on the next floor down so he could calm down and he nearly tore me apart. Guy's not going anywhere."

"He hasn't slept in over forty-eight hours." Maria said. "It doesn't matter if he's superhuman, he needs to rest for a minute. Someone needs to get him to leave."

"I'll get him out of here." Natasha finally spoke up. They all looked at her, quizzically and skeptically. "I was with him when he found out Barnes was still alive, and I ran into him once while he was on the hunt for him, so I think I should be there to see it through with him."

There was a long pause before Clint spoke up. "You sure you want to do it alone? He's crazy."

"He's not crazy, he's just… frantic. And the less people with him the better." She said. She also knew that if it were her specifically, Steve just might open up a little bit. She had a great way of easing in on him and distracting him from his obsession.

"He probably won't listen to you, Natasha." Bruce warned.

She forced a grin. "We'll see. I can be quite persuasive."

"Do whatever you have to do to get him back to the Avengers Tower and away from all of this." Tony added. "We'll take care of things here."

Natasha nodded once, and stepped forward with the task of extracting Steve Rogers. "Get a car ready out front. We're leaving any minute now."

She walked over to him, watching him continue to pace back and forth, oblivious to her and everything else around him. It wasn't going to be as easy as she made it sound to persuade him to leave with her. "Hey," She said apprehensively in an effort to get his attention.

His eyes only flicked up to her for only a split second. "Natasha," He muttered in reply as he pivoted to turn his back on her. She wished their reunion after months apart could have a little more warmth and a little less tension.

She paused before speaking again, watching him while thinking of the right way to string her words together without a hitch. "Are you tired?"

He simply shrugged as he left his pacing to take a seat in the nearest chair, bouncing his one knee and running his hand over his face.

"How about hungry?" 

He stared straight through her, like she wasn't even there while he shook his head.

She forced a small smile while tapping her boot against his sneaker. "C'mon, let's grab something to eat."

"No, thanks." He said flatly, still not looking at her.

"There's a diner right around the corner, Steve. I'm buying."

"I said no thank you." He said with a sick sharpness in his words. His eyes finally met hers, and she wished they hadn't. His once pretty eyes were left hard and cold. They were weighted with worry and dark circles. Getting a good head on view of his face made her see that he didn't even really look like himself. He looked like he'd been forcefully thrown into the emotional grinder and now that was all that was left of him.

Natasha nearly winced, but kept up her kind face. "Let's just get out of here. We can go back to the Tower and relax for a little bit and-"

Steve cut her off when he suddenly stood up, with his face dangerously close to hers. His words flew out of his mouth in such a cruel, low tone. "Look, if you think for even a second that I'll be leaving this exact spot, then you're fucking delusional, Natasha." His hard gaze bore into her before he looked her up and down once. "Now if you would excuse me." He then began to walk away from her with no remorse for the way he spoke to her so harshly.

And he would've gotten farther too, if Natasha hadn't snagged his arm and jerked him back to her. "How dare you speak to me like that?" She said lowly through clenched teeth. "I didn't want to have to be a bitch but now you've got two options, Rogers. You can, one: walk out of here with me on your own, or two: you can wish you had gone with one. Understand?"

"I'm not scared of you." He shook his head at her.

"Well you should be." She spit her words at him and grabbed his hand, squeezing the pressure point in his palm as hard as she possibly could, almost the point where she was red in the face. She knew the move wouldn't do much to him, but she hoped she could make her point. She noticed the slight flicker of pain on his face and took it as an advantage. "Hold my hand and walk towards the elevator and maybe if you're a good boy about it, I'll let go." She didn't wait for an answer before starting to walk towards the elevator she came from. "Is that car ready yet?" She asked Tony as she passed him with Steve in tow.

"Right at the front doors." He replied, looking at her thoughtfully as he dropped a set of keys into her free hand.

"Good." She said as she yanked on Steve and shoved him into the opening elevator.

She finally let go once the doors shut and the elevator quietly began its descent to ground level. It was silent between the pair; Natasha stared at Steve while he stared straight ahead. He was so distant, she thought, feeling as though the Steve she knew had been replaced.

"I'm sorry," She said, breaking the silence.

"I know they asked you to get me out of here, so don't apologize." He still didn't look at her.

"I volunteered, actually."

He sighed. "Just make this quick. I'm not staying away from him for long. You're lucky you got me this far."

"I'm lucky, am I?" Natasha smirked teasingly, hoping to break some of the icy walls Steve built miles high.

"Very," He said coldly as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He stepped out without waiting for her, obviously trying to get their fake escapade over with so he could get back to pacing like a damn fool and cursing out any doctor or nurse who didn't tell him what he wanted to hear. She couldn't help but outwardly frown as she caught up with him.

The car was parked right out front like Stark said it would be, the only problem being she wished it was something a little less eye-catching than an all blacked out Corvette Stingray. She sighed to herself before rounding it to get into the driver's seat. Steve needed no instruction to get in as well.

"Are you really going to make me go to a diner now?" He asked as she pulled out into the street.

"And you're going not only sit down like a civil human being but you're also going to eat something." Natasha said firmly.

The rest of the ride was silent, and so was the walk into the diner and the minutes following them taking their seats at a corner booth. As they drowned in silence, Natasha knew she had to keep up her role of smooth operator. She had to be cool and collected, she had to come off unaffected and unfazed. But, to her dismay and reaffirmation as to how much she cared about Steve and his own personal struggles, playing it cool and nonchalant was harder than she wanted it to be. She wanted to reach out for him and comfort him and ask a thousand questions while trying to protect him from self imploding- but she knew, for the best, she had to dance carefully around the ticking time bomb that was Steve Rogers.

"The short stack sounds good, right?" She said as she looked down at her menu.

"Something from the hospital cafeteria would've been fine." He replied, barely looking at the menu options.

"How about I order for both of us?" She offered, and took his silence as an agreement. 

Steve stayed quiet the entire time, actually. He stared out the window with sweaty palms and bouncy knees, continuing to pay no attention to anyone or anything. He managed to pick at his pancakes, but only because Natasha was relentless about it. She kept on watching him, picking up on all the little things like she always did when she looked at Steve. She listened to his breathing and how it occasionally shook a little. She watched his eyes and how they looked so distressed- more than she'd ever seen before. She took note of the overall sickeningly tense vibe that he radiated so profusely. She felt for him, and couldn't wait to get back to the Tower and try and get him to relax.

"Can we go back to the hospital now?" He asked, breaking the silence suddenly when he pushed his still full plate away.

Her lips twitched into a frown, waiting for his reaction that would follow. "No, not yet."

"This is bullshit." He muttered and stood up quickly, leaving the diner and going back out into the cold.

Natasha was quick about paying the tab and catching up with him out on the sidewalk. She found him impatiently waiting at the car with his arms crossed tight over his chest. "I'm not taking you back yet, Steve." Her voice was almost lost in the quick gust of frigid wind that smacked them so abruptly.

"Fine." He said flatly and got right into the car robotically as soon as she unlocked the doors.

Natasha sighed and slowly went to join Steve inside the car. There was no music playing to fill the heavy space they were in, leaving them both to drown in the quiet. She tried focusing hard on the street ahead of her while he stared intently out the window. They were well on their way to the Tower when the silence finally broke right open.

"Shit!" Steve exclaimed suddenly.

"What?" Natasha nearly jumped in her seat.

Steve sat forward and pointed. "Make a left here."

"The Tower's straight ahead."

"I don't care. Make a left."

"We're not going back to the hospital."

"Oh my God, I know. Make a damn left, please, if you would." He said with undertones anger.

"Okay," She replied quietly and unsurely. "Would you mind telling me where we're going then?"

"I have to go do some things before we go back."

"Where?"

"Make a right after this light."

* * *

Steve didn't give Natasha any indication as to where they were going, only speaking to give her directions. She began to get an idea though when she realized they were headed for Brooklyn. They had been in the car for almost an hour when Steve wanted her to park down the street from an old apartment building.

"Where are we?" She asked after they got out of the car, following him down the street. 

When they finally reached the vacant looking, dilapidated building, Steve began climbing the stairs to the next floor of apartments with no hesitation whatsoever- like he'd tramped up those stairs a million and a half times. "This is where I grew up. Bucky lived a few blocks over."

She did her best not to ask a thousand questions. She'd never been to Steve's original home, and she was pretty sure no one else had been either. She never had given it thought really, and was surprised that he still went there at all.

"Do you still stay here?" She asked when they reached the second level.

"No, not usually. I wouldn't have it unless it was given to me. The building isn't used anymore, hasn't been in years. They were going to tear it down and put a better complex here, but it got named a historical landmark when they realized it's where Captain America grew up, so it's been taken care of. It was empty until I came back from the ice, and the president gave it back to me. The whole building's mine now, but I only come to my old apartment if I'm in town."

"Has anyone else been here with you before?"

"No."

"When was the last time you stayed here?"

"About a year ago while I was still looking for him. And not since right after the battle in Manhattan before that. I was still having trouble gripping that I was back, so I came somewhere I knew before moving to D.C." 

Natasha nodded, watching him pull out an old set of keys from his pocket when they'd reached the third level. Steve jammed his key into the old door and jiggled the handle to get it open. Once they entered, the first thing Natasha noticed was that it was no warmer inside than it was outside. Steve closed the door behind them and flicked on the lights to reveal what his first home looked like. She felt the strange sense of intimacy creep up inside her again, the same one she'd felt from sleeping beside Steve months prior. He'd never had anyone at his old place before, no one except for her. Even though they were there for obvious other reasons, she still felt a sense of pride over Steve even thinking of bringing her there. The next word she thought of was cramped. She thought her flat in Paris was small, but Steve's apartment made hers look absolutely spacious. The family room was just a little box with a vintage couch that looked like it was about to fall to pieces and an old radio sitting on a small wooden coffee table. There was a tiny TV sitting opposite of the sofa, probably a purchase soon after coming back in an effort to catch up. She could see the kitchen from where she stood, noting it was small and simple as well. Two other closed doors were against the farther wall, she guessed they led to a bedroom and a bathroom. "Not too bad," She nodded slowly as she looked around from where she stood again.

"It's a hole in the wall, Natasha. I pay to have it cleaned and dusted every other month so it doesn't go to shit."

"What are we here for?" She asked.

Steve didn't waste time to show her around, but went straight into one of the other rooms. "I'm bringing Bucky back here once he's out of the hospital. It's comfortable and somewhere he knows. Having him here would be best and I want to make sure it's ready."

She prepped herself to disagree with him. "That's probably not the best idea, Steve. He should go back to the Tower when they release him." That was _if_ Bucky was going to be released. At the Tower, he could be secluded and monitored and hidden and safe, and she didn't think Steve's apartment could even handle him. It looked like it barely handled Steve. 

"What the hell do you know about what's best for him?" Steve spat back quickly from the bedroom. "I don't remember you having any say."

Natasha decided to avoid a fight, even though she felt on edge herself. She sighed and pursed her lips, seeing a dial for the thermostat on the wall. She turned it on, incase their visit would last long, and listened for the heater start up from inside the walls. Maybe having Steve in his own home would be better for him to stay away in than the Tower. "Steve,"

He didn't respond, his only reply was the sound of him moving things around.

"Steve," She said again, a little louder.

"What?" He finally replied, sounding annoyed by her. He'd been anxious and tight from the moment she saw him, but something about coming home at a time like this was apparently making it even worse. She wanted nothing more then to make it stop for him.

"Steve," She said his name a third time, sounding uneasy. "What if-"

"What if what?" He cut her off when he came back into the front room.

Natasha paused, trying to be careful with him. "What if Bucky isn't who makes it out of the surgery?"

His whole body reacted. It almost looked like someone had pushed him. He sat down on the couch and laced his fingers together, pressing them to his mouth in an attempt to hold it together. She knew he already knew that- thought it up on his own and was told by everyone at the hospital. But for some reason when she said it, it had him reeling. "I don't- why are you saying this?"

She carefully took a step towards him. "I'm just trying to weigh it all out for you, Steve. What if it isn't Bucky who wakes up if he makes it?"

" _If?_ " His head shot up.

She bit her tongue hard. "He'll make it. But you have to consider the possibilities here, Steve."

He cocked his head and exhaled sharply, like anger was burning him from the inside out. He was switching gears all over the place- rocking from irrational and cruel to closed and cold to jumpy and sliding right into frustratingly livid. All of it was so out of character for Steve, making Natasha realize more how much Barnes truly meant to him. "Consider the possibilities? Like what? That when he opens his eyes all he sees is someone he's supposed to kill?"

"You have to be careful."

"No, _you_ have to be careful. Just stay out of the way."

"Wha- out of the way?" She shook her head, wrapping her train of thought around his words. He was emotional and irrational, yes, but he was being so bitter as well. She shouldn't have taken it personally, she never took much personally, but it was so hard not to feel his cold words like ice in her face. Especially when he'd already excluded her from Bucky's rescue mission. "You want me out of the way?"

"For God's sake, Natasha!" He hit the table and shot up to his feet, making it splinter like it was made of straw. "Just let me take care of things."

"Let _you_ take care of things?" She snapped back quickly, getting closer to be up in his face. "You couldn't hold it together right now even if you tried. You're friend is dying, Steve, and you still can't keep the peace- even for him. You're a fucking grenade, and the rest of the team gave you to me to pull the pin."

He went still. She could see he was cracking into another stage. She knew he was falling apart and it wasn't going to get any prettier. The anger was giving way to defeat and she could see it plain as day. The worst part was that it was at her own hand. She'd pushed him with her words and now he was exploding, just like she said he would. He shook his head. "No," He mumbled. "He's not-." He stood there for a moment unmoving, Natasha watched his breathing pick up and shallow out. She reached an arm out in apology but he quickly dodged it, like her fingers were laced in poison. He looked sweaty, tired, and distraught- almost like an addict going through a withdraw. He started shaking and paled, and she wasn't sure if it was from his panicking or the cold in the room. He looked down and breathed in sharply, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Excuse me." He muttered and turned quickly, going through the other door and turning the light on right away, shutting the door behind him only to have it crack open again. He immediately turned the sink on to drown out what was coming.

Natasha winced at the sound of him vomiting. It was sickening and heartbreaking and another realization of how extreme the situation was. She walked forward and slowly pushed open the door, revealing Steve knelt down with his head in the toilet bowl. He wretched again, making his whole body shake with the convulsion. She turned off the sink and bent down too, placing a hand gently on his back before speaking. "I'm sorry," She repeated in a gentle murmur again and again. She knew damn well she shouldn't have been so hard on him, especially then. He shook his head slightly in between coughing and choking, trying to tell her that it was okay. "When was the last time you were sick like this?"

He wretched once more, but nothing came up. His stomach was empty. "I was over a hundred pounds lighter, so it's been a while." He sounded horrible.

She nodded and made a smooth circle with her hand. He had broken the inhuman laws of the serum and literally worried himself sick. It worried her in all kinds of ways, but she tried her best to focus on the current huge problems at hand. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the fabric of the back of his shirt, kissing it apologetically. "I think you should lie down." She said softly.

"Natasha," He said as he picked his head up and flushed the toilet. "I'm not going-"

"Steve," She cut him off. She meant to sound stern but she just sounded worried and pleading. "Please,"

He stayed still for a long moment, staring down blankly. His lips fought a hard grimace and his eyes gave way that he was at his breaking point. His eyelashes were wet with unshed tears from vomiting and his skin still looked unsettlingly pale. "Natasha," He whispered like he was going to protest, but it sounded so defeated. She could see tears were about to creep their way back up into his eyes again.

"Come on," She murmured and stood up, helping him up with her. "Get a shower and then lie down for a little bit." She turned the shower on and left to get some clothes for him, and forced herself not to glance his way through the textured glass of the shower after he'd gotten in when she dropped a long sleeved tee and sweatpants on the counter. 

She went back into the bedroom and grabbed another set of clothes for herself. She thought if they were both more comfortable that he may unwind even more. She rolled the waistband on a pair of sweatpants to fit her small frame and tugged a sweatshirt over her head. She heard the shower shut off when she went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, and met him back in his room when she returned with it. "Lie down," She said softly and drew back the blanket for him; he did so without anymore protesting. "Good," She whispered and turned to leave, knowing he probably wanted space from her.

"Don't go," He said tightly. "Please. Please don't go." 

Natasha turned back around slowly. God, he worried her so much. Whenever she'd seen Steve in any kind of internal distress, he did an excellent job of extricating himself from whoever he was with and leaving to heal up on his own. But now, he sounded like he was going to break if she left him be for more than a few seconds. "I'm not going anywhere if you want me here." She shook her head and smiled warmly in an effort to bring a little comfort his way. 

He stared at her, like an indication to stay with him. She was slow to crawl up the bed to reach him. Despite how cold and mean he'd been before, Steve had let that melt away to reveal how needy of a state he was in. Natasha propped herself up against the wall, and Steve wasted no time scooting his head into her lap and wrapping an arm around her body. They sat in silence while she played with his damp hair, stroking it softly to dull the pounding in his head.

It was quiet for a long while, long enough for his hair to mostly dry and her hands to go pruney from touching his hair so much. "So you grew up here?" She asked in a soft tone.

He nodded, absentmindedly playing with the folded waistband on her pants at her hipbone. "Mom and me,"

"Was this always your room?"

"We shared it."

She nodded, remembering the vague outline of Steve's early life that she knew. His father died very early on, leaving his wife little to raise their constantly ill son with. He grew up in the Depression and from her understanding there wasn't a passing moment where things were easy. She didn't know much else, other than that he attended art school for a little while and his mother didn't live to see the man that her son turned into. "What was that like?" She asked, hoping to distract his thoughts from the obvious.

"Hard," He replied. "Ma worked too hard and too much, and I was always sick and constantly getting myself into trouble."

Natasha pursed her lips, seeing that talking about the past probably wasn't going to make him feel much better. She gently ran her fingers through his hair again and stroked the side of his face with her thumb. "Tell me your favorite memory from growing up here."

"What?" He narrowed his eyes but didn't bother to pick up his head and look at her. 

"Come on, Steve. There has to be one. Tell me about it."

He exhaled slowly with an expression of deep thought on his tired face. She thought she even saw a smile twitch on his lips for a moment. "I think I have two."

"Tell me both."

Steve shifted slightly where he laid, and continued to slowly fiddle with the fabric of her sweatpants. "It was Christmas, and I was about seven or eight. I was miserable because I had a chest cold and Mom worked all day, so I was alone on the one day you're supposed to be with your family. I was angry, not at my mom for leaving me to work, but for the fact that she even had to. I was just about to go to sleep when she got home, but she made me stay up so she could give me my gift. She bought me a new coat, and it wasn't someone else's coat first like a lot of my clothes were- it was brand new. I couldn't believe it, I was so happy. But when I hugged her, I noticed how cold her skin was and how old her coat was. I wanted to take it back and use the money to buy her one, I felt like crying. And before I could even say anything, she just kissed my face and said 'Merry Christmas, Sweetheart. Don't lose your new coat.' I didn't even feel like eating because I was sick, but after she ate her dinner we laid down on the couch for a while until I fell asleep. And I wore the coat until it was all riddled with holes and threadbare."

Natasha smiled warmly and stroked his arm as she pictured the scene in her head. "That's beautiful,"

"I always wanted to get her a coat after that, though."

"Did you?"

He nodded slightly and sighed. "Yeah, I did. It was years later, on her last Christmas. She was just starting to get sick then. I bought her a brown pea coat."

"I bet she loved it." Natasha said tightly. She didn't realize the emotional beating she was taking herself until it was hard to speak. She felt Steve's loss and pain on a much deeper level than she thought she did.

He closed his eyes and smiled sadly, fighting unshed tears again. "Enough to make her cry,"

Natasha inhaled slowly and swallowed, exhaled quietly and gave his arm a light squeeze."Tell me the other one."

He cocked his head as he readied himself to tell the other memory. "My thirteenth birthday was the other one. It was July Fourth weekend and it was hot as hell around here. There was nothing to do because it was just too damn hot, but my mom took the day off from work and took Bucky and I to Coney Island for the day. It was perfect at the beach, plenty cooler than it had been in the city. Mom sat on the beach in a chair and watched me and Buck be assholes for the entire day, she only yelled at us when we started throwing sand. After we were done on the beach she bought us dinner on the boardwalk. There was live music on the boardwalk that night, and I didn't want to dance but Bucky made me. The two of us fell asleep on the car ride back and then we spent the night at his house so my mom could rest on her own. He gave me this red and yellow yo-yo, because everybody had one and I didn't. Granted he ended up accidentally hitting me in the head with it, but it was the best birthday I ever had."

Natasha smiled at his memory, considering this one was still heartfelt but not as heartbreaking as the first one. "They really loved you."

Steve cringed when she used the past tense. One of them was still hanging around with the potential to use the present tense. "I can't lose him, Natasha." He whispered.

"You won't, Steve. You won't. I promise." She reassured.

"Nat, I already lost him before. I've already done it. I can't do it again. If I lose him again I'll lose my mind." His voice was tight and hoarse.

The trauma of losing his best friend once was harsh enough. She knew the story, read the file and the reports. After Barnes was lost the first time when he was just slightly out of grasp, Steve went reckless abandon to level the playing field. Although he accomplished his goal of justice, he paid an icy price himself. And now the second time around seemed hauntingly similar to the first so many years ago. Bucky's life hung in the balance when he was just out of Steve's reach, but Steve was spiraling more openly this time. From her understanding, he'd been quiet but firm in his grief before, but he couldn't hide it anymore. Her concern this time around was whether or not Steve was going to set himself on fire just to keep his best friend warm again. She knew he'd do it without a second thought. She paused a long while and closed her eyes, still trying to console him with her fingers. "You won't be alone."

He looked up at her with his soul-cracking eyes, making her chest ache. "You sure?" She knew what he meant. He referred to the way she could be cold with the flick of a switch and how she could disappear so well and so quickly that it was a question on whether she was even there to begin with. And he was right, she could fall away and cut all the strings without a problem- normally. She couldn't do that to Steve. The red, white, and blue strings of Steve Rogers were too strong to cut and too tangled to undo. There was only a small handful of people in Natasha's entire life that made their way passed her endless cavern of smoke and mirrors, but somehow Steve had become one. And because of that, she could never leave him high and dry. 

She cocked her head and nodded, laying her hand on his cheek and stroked his skin with her thumb.

Steve nodded once and swallowed, looking back down. He tugged on her hips, pulling her from her sitting position. She was quick to follow his lead and shrink down into the small bed with him. He covered her in the blanket and shared in the warmth he'd created, she closed her eyes and nestled her head against his chest. He tightened his grip on her and ducked his head to her shoulder, exhaling against the fabric of her sweatshirt. Natasha's mind was quick to remind her of the level of intimacy they were sharing again. It was like a dinging in her head, a warning that that was unchartered territory and was to be avoided. The last time had been so innocent, she just wanted him to relax and warm up. But now he was holding on to her like his last bit of sanity was rooted in her, like he was anchoring himself to her as he tightened his grip around her body. She knew he was just clawing for someone to be there in his time of need, and she had no problem being that for him. Though mostly superhuman, Steve was still dangerously human. 

"Steve?" She said his name softly.

"Hmm?"

She paused before continuing, not sure as to what kind of answer she was going to get for her question. "Why didn't you tell me about the tact team to help you with Bucky?" He was quiet, so she kept talking. "I could've helped. I wanted to help you, you know that." She couldn't stop herself from sounding a bit hurt.

He sighed prior to speaking. "I know you wanted to help, that's why I didn't want you there."

She quickly picked up her head and glared at him, even more stung by him. "You didn't want me there?"

"No," He shook his head and repositioned himself. "I didn't want to risk it."

" _Risk it?_ "

He nodded with a sincere look on his tired face. "I knew it was going to be dangerous."

"And you don't think I can handle danger?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I know you can. But I just couldn't have you there." He sounded like he was struggling as to say it the way he wanted to.

"Because?"

"Because," He said as he gently squeezed her for a moment. His voice was exhausted. "I didn't want to even risk you getting hurt if you were there." This time she was quiet, so he was the one that kept talking. "I knew you probably would've been fine, but what if something happened to you like what happened to him? What if it happened to both of you? I didn't even want it to be an option."

She inhaled slowly and nodded once, finally understanding him. "You were protecting me." 

He nodded too. 

"What would've you done if something happened to me?"

He shrugged. "I'd be sitting outside your hospital room right now, kicking myself."

Natasha looked over his face with soft and sad admiration. There were a lot of things she could have said. She could've protested that she could fully and completely take care of herself. She could've brought up that she would have been useful. She should have mentioned that she didn't need him to ever worry about her. She should have reminded him that she was a trained spy for Christ's sake. What tact team doesn't need one of those? But she didn't. She gently pressed her face closer to his chest, trying to get even more close to him than she already was. "Thank you," She murmured.

He was quite for a long moment after that, other than the few stuttered breaths he took. He leaned his head down slowly and kissed her head through her hair, as if to say 'You're welcome.' It was nice, she thought, that in the midst of drowning in the chaos and breakdown, she and Steve managed to come up for air and find a moment of peace.

"Get some rest, Steve. Just a little." She murmured with her lips to his shirt.

"I don't think I can."

"Just try, for me. Please." She stroked his arm delicately.

He didn't respond to her anymore, answering her without any words. Natasha closed her eyes, zoning in on the sound of the heater and his breathing. 

* * *

"Natasha, get up." She heard his voice say as her eyes cracked open right away.

"What?" She said as she sat up. She hadn't even realized she fell asleep until Steve was waking her up.

Steve was changing back into his normal clothes and being hasty about it. His voice was anxious and commanding. "You fell asleep and you've been getting messages on your phone. I can see all the messages are from Stark but I can't unlock your phone because I don't know the damn passcode. He wants to tell you something and I just want to get back to the hospital now."

Natasha snatched her phone from the bedside table it sat on. She saw on the clock that she'd managed to keep Steve away from the hospital for nearly six hours, which she considered a victory in itself. But she wasn't going to fight him on it anymore. "Let's get going."

"Aren't you going to check the messages?" He snagged her arm on her way out of the bedroom.

She stared at his hard eyes that were desperate and searching. "I will." She said flatly with the tiniest inflection of reassurance. She didn't want to read them in front of Steve, scared by what they might say.

Natasha retreated to the bathroom to change her clothes, but first read her messages from Tony. The first few were fired off questions about "Where are you?" and "Pepper said no one's at the Tower, care to explain?" with a little "Where the fuck did you take him?". Which was soon to be followed by "Get your asses back to the hospital when you get back from the Bermuda Triangle. Barnes is out of surgery and still not responsive or conscious. Steve might want to be here." And summed up with a bit of "The doctor's say the surgery was successful, but still did a major number on him. He may wake up and I'd hate for the Captain to rip off my head today. Please get back here."

She threw her clothes back on, but kept Steve's sweatshirt since his apartment had gone cold again, and met him out in the front room where he was messing with his keys to lock the door behind them.

"Barnes is out of surgery. They're waiting for him to wake up now." She said as she hit the lights.

"Let's go." He said with command and urgency like he did when he gave orders.

* * *

Natasha ran every red light and made every illegal turn to make it back to the hospital as quickly as possible. She couldn't be bothered with the traffic cameras surely catching every wrong move she made, the tickets would be sent right to Tony who would happily pay the bill. She left the keys with the valet and ran to keep up with Steve, who was flying back inside the hospital. She followed him passed the elevator and up the stairs, all ten flights. Steve was out of sight when she reached the tenth floor, and she scanned the area desperately for him.

"He's with Barnes already." Stark said to grab her attention.

"Is he awake?" She asked, still catching her breath from all of the stairs.

"No, not yet." He shook his head and walked forward, Natasha following close behind. "They're thinking he'll be up any time now."

"Where do we wait?"

"In here." He said, leading her down the hallway where the security was heavier. They passed a door that was obviously where Barnes was being held, considering all of the guards posted in front of it. The next door is the one they entered, which was just a simple, small room with no table or chairs or anything else besides a giant picture window that revealed Barnes' room. She could tell it was a two way mirror, so that Barnes could be monitored even when he thought he was alone. It was probably for his own good, so he wouldn't be too overwhelmed when he came to. The observation room they were in was crowded but quiet. The entire team was inside along with some medical personnel. It was Barnes' room that was free from droves of people, Steve and Bucky were its only occupants. Natasha pushed forward to the glass to get a better look at the scene on the other side.

The first thing she noticed was Barnes. It was surreal to even lay eyes on him again. He was so cold and ghostlike the last time she saw him, it was like he wasn't even real. But he looked nothing like that anymore, not with the drawn-in face and the IV tubes or the nasal cannula or just the overall appearance of a broken man. He looked like he was still out cold, the only thing that let her know he was still alive was the beeping heart monitor beside him. Steve sat next to him on the other side, with his chair scooted as close as possible against the bed and his folded and fidgety hands set on top of the bedrail, his chin resting above them. He was waiting as patiently as possible for his friends to wake up.

But that was just it- an icy panic that danced up and down her spine reminded her that it may not be Bucky that was going to open his eyes. It may be someone else, someone deadly and cruel. She couldn't even begin to fathom the aftermath if that happened. Steve would lose it, he'd break beyond repair. He'd probably just let the Winter Soldier do his job and finish him like he was supposed to. Natasha gripped the frame of the mirror and couldn't tear her eyes away even if she tried. She needed to watch, be there for Steve- hell, be there for both of them through the glass. 

"Hey," Clint said from where he stood right behind her.

"Hi," She broke her stare and looked back at him.

"How's he hanging in there?" He nodded towards Steve, who was then readjusting Bucky's blanket so it covered more of him.

Natasha sighed. "He's holding it together now."

"Good, I was worried he'd break the place."

Natasha shook her head and looked back through the window. "That's not what I'm worried about breaking."

"Where did you end up taking him?"

She paused, knowing to keep what happened private. Even from Clint. "He took me somewhere, actually."

Clint nodded in understanding, continuing to watch on beside her.

Nearly forty-five minutes ticked by, which felt like hours and seconds all at the same time, before it looked like Barnes was stirring.

"He's awakening." Thor said, getting everyone's attention.

Natasha felt a short gasp escape her involuntarily as she pressed herself harder against the glass.

"Bucky?" She could hear Steve say in the other room. His voice was strained, but still had a calm resonation that Natasha hadn't heard out of him in a long time.

Barnes's head slowly rolled in Steve direction, making her hands feel sweaty. His eyes fluttered gently, like they were in no rush to open.

"Bucky?" Steve said again. "Buck, it's me. It's Steve."

Natasha watched as Barnes laid eyes on Steve and stared at him with an unreadable expression, and she couldn't help herself from muttering hasty prayers in Russian. The entire room waited in bated breath as they watched Barnes slowly and shakily lift his metal arm, reaching up for Steve. Steve bent down, making it easier for him. Natasha felt chilling fear run up and down her spine. Who was reaching for Steve? The Soldier or Bucky? Barnes put his hand on the back on Steve's neck, making it shine in the pale light. The whole room was flooded in tension as they waited for the worst. His hand's grip tightened slightly before pulling Steve down to his chest. 

"Oh my God," She exhaled into her hand that flew up over her mouth. 

A collective gasp escaped everyone's chest. He was hugging him. _Barnes was hugging him._ Thank God he was hugging him. It made Steve cry- openly sob into his friend's shoulder. Natasha felt like she was looking in on a moment that wasn't meant for anyone else, but she still couldn't look away. The more she watched the pair in their teary reunion, the more she was brought back to her own reality. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally and mentally drained. She'd be along for the whole ride in a search for Barnes and now that it was finally over, she felt the stress being lifted away and topple back onto her all at the same time. She hadn't even realized just how spent she was until Clint put a hand on her shoulder, rocking her back to the real world and making her notice her eyes were stinging.

"You okay?" He asked quietly.

She nodded and swiped under her eyes, taking a deep breath that rattled her insides. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He nodded once and gave her shoulder a squeeze before everyone started filing out of the observation room to leave Steve and Bucky alone. "Come on, let's go."

"'Kay," It was over. It was finally over. It was over and no one had to die. 

There was a bit of a time lapse after that, where everything was calmer because Bucky made it but still high strung because there was so much ahead to weed through. The relief Natasha felt for him was soon replaced by fear again, because pulling through the surgery meant there was going to be consequences for the last seventy years of sin. Even if he didn't deserve it, it was coming.

* * *

Now that there was a moment to breathe, Natasha felt herself crashing. She needed somewhere to sit and decompress. She needed time to flush out the feelings that she never let settle inside her for too long. She needed to be alone so she could reel in peace. She excused herself silently from everyone else in search of somewhere to go and recollect. The next floor up was essentially barren, making it the perfect place to unwind and pull apart. She found an empty hallway and only made it about half of the way down before leaning against the wall and slowly sinking to the floor. With her one leg stretched and her other bent tight, knee held almost under her chin by her arm hooked around it to keep herself together, she finally could dip her head and reflect without interruption. 

Her head was hurting her, because the emotions that she'd been trained to disregard were too hard to stomp out. There were only a few things and people on the entire planet that had a way of striking her right in the chink of her armor, and the passed few hours made a considerable blow. She still battled back and forth with reactions, like relief that Barnes was going to be okay and fear in the high price he was going to have to pay. It was a miracle that he'd finally been located and saved, even if he had to be gravely injured in the process. Now was the time for recovery and rebuilding, time to reconstruct the good man he used to be- and probably still was. But she knew there was no way on Earth that could happen easily and gently, like it was supposed to. There was going to be people all over the globe that would love to see him rot, love to see the same kind of pain inflicted on him that he so coldly gave out the passed few decades. It was about to be hell. 

And whatever fire was coming to burn Barnes, it was surely going to singe Steve just as much.

He was going to fight for Bucky and stand beside him until the end and do it without flinching once. He was going to save his friend, no matter what. And he could handle it, or at least that was going to be what he'd tell himself while the world would try tearing the pair apart. She knew he was going to swallow any trials that were put on their plates from then on out, but she didn't want him to. Natasha didn't want Steve hurting anymore. He'd been knocked down too many times in his life for her to be comfortable with. She didn't want to watch him silently suffer for anyone else anymore.

She leaned her head back and rested it against the wall, staring at the ceiling so hard that her eyes danced in and out of focus. She cursed her emotional investment in Steve Rogers and cursed emotions altogether. Feeling nothing was easy, and caring was proving to be more difficult than she could ever like.

"Natasha," She was snapped out of her heavy daze when she heard her name being said. She looked down the hallway to see Steve standing at the mouth of the hallway. His voice didn't sound panicked or breaking anymore, he sounded like himself again.

"How'd you find me?"

He shrugged as he walked towards her. "Just guessed," She nodded once, watching him take a seat on the floor beside her. "Are you okay?"

She closed her eyes and chuckled. "You're asking _me_ if I'm okay?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. "So are you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and ran her fingers over the smooth and cold floor tiles. "I'm fine."

"Like how you're always fine?"

Her lips tugged a smirk as she narrowed her eyes and looked his way, shaking her head. "Don't go digging into my dichotomy, Rogers."

He grinned and rolled his eyes. "We'd need to set aside a few days for that."

"Weeks, probably." She corrected him lightly. The grin on her face didn't stay long, and was soon replaced by heaviness again as she stared at the wall in front of them. She still wasn't ready to return to her chilly charade just yet. She was still uncoiling the mess of heavily felt secondhand emotions in her head.

"Nat," Steve said, grabbing her attention again as she was fading back into her cloudy head. He placed a hand gingerly on her knee, like he wasn't sure if it was okay to do, but gave it a gentle squeeze anyway. "I'm sorry,"

"Don't be sorry, Steve." She shrugged and shook her head, still staring at the wall ahead.

"I'm sorry you were along for the ride for all of that. That wasn't exactly fair, I think. And I'm sorry if I struck any cords, I didn't mean to drag you through the mud with me."

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard to push down the lump growing in her throat. She had no idea why any of it made her so sensitive, and she hated it. Despised it with every fiber of her being. Just when she was about to get up and leave to go squash her feelings somewhere else, something else inside wanted to stay right where she was. She couldn't keep from scooting closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder. He moved slightly, like he was surprised, but recomposed quickly to put an arm around her and stroke her knee with his thumb of the hand that was still holding it.

"Thank you," He turned his head and spoke softly against her hair. "For everything,"

She closed her eyes and nodded, inhaling the smell of his shirt as she settled farther against him. It was familiar and strangely comforting. He was warm and open and the sound of his heart beating under his shirt made her head pound a little less laboriously. She wasn't in the mood to talk anymore, so they both stayed quiet seated on the ground. Steve occasionally smoothed her hair with his hand or repeated his thank you's with his lips to her hairline.

"You should probably think about lying down for a while." Steve said after their long moment of much needed silence.

"Are you trying to say something?" She managed to smirk as she picked up her head.

"Never," He shook his head with a playfully smug grin and rose to his feet. "But you could probably use the rest after babysitting a giant, temper tantrum-throwing kid for as long as you just did."

She cocked her head at him. "You're probably right. He was a huge pain in my ass."

Steve chuckled. "Get some rest, Natasha."

"You first." She replied.

He smirked and nodded at the floor, before tapping her shoe with his and slowly turning to leave.

She watched him go, finding solace in the fact that he was feeling whole again with his best friend back from the dead. She hoped that soon enough she could find some peace like that.

* * *

A few hours went by and the dust was still settling. Steve had been left alone with Bucky, but Natasha happened to overhear a nurse say they were both asleep. It was relieving to hear Steve had finally taken a second to rest, and even though that should have been enough incentive to still leave them be, Natasha couldn't fight the urge to peek. 

She slyly made her way passed the crowds of medical and security assistance with ease, stopping in front of the door before cracking it open ever so slowly. The room was calm and silent, aside from the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor and the sound of two people sleeping. They'd moved a reclining chair into the room for Steve, who was out like a light- conked out like he'd been hit over the head with a baseball bat. It was a comforting sight, even if he almost looked funny trying to fold himself into the small space of the chair, but not the one she had her focus on.

Her eyes couldn't break away from Barnes, who also appeared to be sleeping. He still had a collection of machines hooked up to him and there were cuffs on his ankles connecting him to the bed rails from under the blanket. It was surreal to look at him this way- to be looking at the true Bucky Barnes for the first time ever. It was after a few moments of gawking in curiosity that Natasha noticed his eyes were opening.

Natasha stared at him, wide eyed, before half turning to quickly and quietly exit without any problem or noise. She hadn't meant to wake anybody, especially the deadly weapon turned traumatized post-op patient.

"Wait." He croaked.

Natasha froze where she stood and slowly turned back around to look at him. Hearing his voice ran an eerie sensation up and down her spine. 

He patted the mattress with his metal hand, inviting her to sit down.

She couldn't stop staring as she swallowed and nodded, carefully taking a seat on the bed.

"Natasha?" His voice was broken and barely above a whisper.

She nodded again, with more confidence this time. "Yes, that's me." She replied quietly.

He breathed in slowly and startled her when his metallic hand reached out and touched hers. She flinched at the coldness of his touch, but didn't jerk her arm away. She let him lay his silvery fingers over her hand that she fought with so desperately to keep it from shaking. "Thank you." He whispered.

"For what?" She furrowed her eyebrows together.

He cocked his head to look at Steve, who hadn't budged since she walked into the room. "He's always needed looking after."

She looked at Steve too, watching his chest rise and fall in perfect rhythm. The expression of doom wasn't painted on his face anymore, and he no longer looked sick to his stomach. "You don't have to thank me. He's a good guy."

"He's a punk." He retorted quickly with a pained grin. Natasha couldn't help but smile a little as well. Barnes was charming, of all things. "He's a self-sacrificing son of a bitch who doesn't know when to quit for his own good."

She tilted her head in agreement. "I don't mind helping him out. I… I care about him." Her mouth was having a hard time shaping around her words that she meant so deeply.

He swallowed and raised his eyebrows momentarily. "So do I."

"He's happy to have you back. It's been killing him."

Bucky nodded slowly, glancing back at Steve. There was a pain on his face that made a hundred unanswered questions pop into Natasha's head. Did he feel bad for being the source of Steve's turmoil? Did he even feel Steve's pain with the same gravity? Was he not happy to be back in the real world? Did he even remember what he'd done, what he'd been made to do? Was being back in the land of the living even worth it after all the passed heinous acts of duty and blood on his hands? Could that blood truly ever be all washed off? "Can you do something for me? I don't deserve shit, I know, but please."

Natasha inhaled and nodded, leaning closer since Bucky's exhausted voice was fading quickly.

"Keep taking care of him, would you?" He asked with a bone splitting sincerity. He moved his foot just barely enough for the cuffs on his ankles to rattle. He knew what was waiting ahead.

Her eyes felt like they were burning again as she nodded and swallowed. "Of course." Her voice came out tight.

"Good," He exhaled and settled his head back against the pillow again. "Good."

Her eyes darted all over his face, soaking up what it looked like without interruption. His eyes were blue like the ocean, but they reminded her of fire- they were dangerous and deadly and should have made her want to stand back to keep from burning, but she couldn't when they were so wild and warm. She had to keep looking. Natasha switched her hand to be on top of his and stroked her thumb against the hard metal once before standing up. He looked terrible, like he hadn't slept in seventy years; she knew it was time to go. "I'll come back." He closed his eyes and tilted his chin in acknowledgement. She took it as her cue to leave, and was halfway out the door when she was stopped one last time.

"Natasha,"

She paused. "Yes?" She turned her head halfway.

"Sorry,"

"For what?" She asked before turning her head the rest of the way to look at him again.

"For shooting you. Twice."

The heat rushed back to her eyes and her stomach made a sick flip. _He remembered._ She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She simply nodded once and left the room.

It was over. It was over. _It was over._

It was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished! Not sure if I'm totally and completely pleased with the finished product, but I am happy regardless to be done this piece altogether. I hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is always appreciated and taken into account for future reference. Thank you again so much for reading :) xo

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Really don't know if I even really like this little piece, but it has been sitting in my laptop eating away at me so I decided to just get it out there. This is my first time writing for this pairing, so I can only hope that I did them some justice. There is a second part that can go along with it, but I'm not sure if it's even worth putting up. If you like this, let me know if you would like to see the rest! Thanks for reading :)


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